


A Tunnel From My Window to Yours

by Chash



Series: No Distance That Could Hold Us Back [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Long-Distance Relationship, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 03:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8234455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Bellamy meets Clarke Griffin because the two of them both really like getting in fights with assholes on Octavia's Facebook page. That's a great basis for friendship, he's pretty sure. And who cares if she lives in Michigan? They can still totally be friends.It's great.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bgonemydear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgonemydear/gifts).



> The thing about writing a fic with a long-distance relationship that breaks up when you are both in a long-distance relationship AND your girlfriend is going to read the fic is that it makes you feel v sad, and you then need to write fic about happy LDRs to make yourself feel better. So here we are.

It starts on Octavia's Facebook wall.

Bellamy's theory about Octavia's entire Facebook experience is that because they don't have much of a family, she feels like she's missing out on arguing with her racist relatives, so she friends bigots just so she'll be able to fight them, and that's why there are so many dicks with bad opinions in her posts.

"That's just, like, half true," Octavia tells him, when he shares this theory. "But I can't actually unfriend asshole customers who add me because of work, so I'm trying to scare them away with my liberal politics. And then they think they can just mansplain me into being a conservative instead."

She works as a hostess at a bar, so it's not really surprising that a lot of gross dudes add her on Facebook. It's at least better than them trying to follow her home.

"Couldn't you just change your name on Facebook like I do?"

She rolls her eyes. "I use it to do real stuff for the bar, Bell. Events. It's a marketing tool. I know you're, like, seventy in digital years, but this is how the internet works now. Private is public."

"Yeah, you're right, I really don't get it." He drums his fingers on the table. "So, can I fight them too, or does that interfere with whatever weird thing you've got going?"

"Knock yourself out," says O. "You know there are other places you can get in fights on the internet, right? That's like, the second easiest thing to find on the internet, after porn."

"I don't want to go looking for things to piss me off. I find enough without trying."

"Then, yeah. If you want to fight people on Facebook, go ahead. My boss can't blame me for you yelling at people."

"Cool," he says. "Happy to help."

He wasn't even lying, when he said he doesn't go looking for fights. He really doesn't. But it's an election year, and he's neither white nor straight, and Donald Trump is somehow in the world as a viable candidate for president, which means that he is at least 75% rage by volume at all times, and it's only so satisfying to get pissed with people who agree with him. And Octavia's Facebook posts about politics are just filled with asshole white guys who want to explain to her why Clinton and Trump are equally bad (no) or how writing Bernie Sanders in could actually work as a strategy (definitely not) or how Trump is really representing for the poor and downtrodden (holy fuck no).

He's arguing with some guy named Ted about Hillary Clinton's accomplishments on a Friday night because he needs something to do _while_ he plays Overwatch with Miller when Ted says, _Hillary deserves zero credit for her gay rights shit. Check out her history. She's been against gay rights forever and now she thinks she deserves kudos for pretending to care._

It's such a stupid comment that Bellamy wants to respond in too many ways at once. It doesn't deserve much more than a meme, but it's possible that the guy actually _is_ gay and has valid complaints about Clinton's history. Which doesn't make it a good comment, but at least makes it a _better_ one. And, really, no matter what, he wants to systematically destroy the guy, and that takes effort, even if he's too stupid to _deserve_ effort. Bellamy likes destroying people.

He's reading up on Clinton's actual history with LGBT rights, which he knows about broadly but doesn't feel like enough of an expert on for total annihilation, when Facebook pops up a notification, and he sees that someone named Clarke Griffin has also replied. He's already cringing, because Clarke Griffin definitely sounds like a douchebag name, but when he checks, they've apparently decided to do Bellamy's work for him.

He likes the comment and then gets to stalking, because anyone who's making angry queer comments on Octavia's Facebook profile is someone he wants to know more about. Her profile is mostly locked down, but her picture is nice, the back of (he assumes) her head lit by a sunset, artsy and cool without being too pretentious, and he can tell that she's also bisexual, went to college with Octavia, and is currently in grad school in Michigan. They're all points in her favor, and he's glad he's not the only person fighting the good fight here.

The interaction is enough to get Clarke on his radar, and once she is, he notices that she's smart and sarcastic and always spoiling for a fight when he sees her on Octavia's posts. They aren't in agreement on everything, but her opinions are always based in fact and she can back them up, plus she's also willing to listen to his perspective and adjust her own as needed. 

As a bonus, she has a lot of good opinions on movies and TV shows, which is what finally makes Octavia snap. In her defense, he and Clarke have about twenty comments in her post about Supergirl talking among themselves about the DC TV universe and whether or not anyone should ever try to make Smallville cross over into the Arrowverse, and she's probably getting notified for all of them. So he'd be ready to murder himself in her place too.

"Jesus Christ, Bell, just friend her and take this shit to private messages or something!" she yells from her room, and Bellamy considers his laptop.

He doesn't have a lot of Facebook friends. Most of them are from his first, abortive attempt at college, the one that ended when he had to take over Octavia's care. By the time he could afford to go back and finish up, he was a lot older than most of his peers, and only part-time to boot. He still gets people friending him occasionally, but it doesn't really feel like a useful social tool. He mostly appreciates it letting him keep up with Monty and Miller after they moved to Seattle and likes that he gets memes about three months after they were popular, so he can reference them to make his students cringe with how out of touch he is.

Friending Clarke feels like a new level of Faceboking, though, one he's not really sure about. He's never met her, and even if they've talked a decent amount in the last month, it still feels kind of--rude.

On the other hand, it's not like _Facebook friendship_ is some huge step that can never be reversed or rethought. If she doesn't want to be friends, she'll just ignore him or turn him down, and they can continue their current thing of destroying O's asshole customers together. 

He's still nervous about sending the request, enough that he has to go to the kitchen to get himself some water after just so he won't fidget. Which is stupid, but--it feels so _formal_. Asking someone to be your friend is _weird_.

She's already accepted by the time he gets back, which goes a long way toward making him feel better, and he's not nervous at all when he opens up the messenger window.

 **Blake** : Octavia yelled at me for blowing up her notifications and told me we needed to take it somewhere private  
So, hi, I guess  
I'm Octavia's brother Bellamy

 **Clarke** : Yeah, I figured that out when I saw Octavia calling you Bell in the comments  
But I appreciate the clarification  
Why Blake Bradbury?

 **Blake** : I'm a teacher and I don't want my students to find me  
So last name/Middle name

 **Clarke** : Makes sense  
Tell Octavia I'm sorry for blowing up her notifications  
You guys live together, right?

 **Blake** : Yeah  
Until we get sick of each other  
It's a lot of yelling down the hall about whose turn it is to take out the trash

 **Clarke** : That sounds like the usual roommate situation to me

 **Blake** : Maybe  
I had another roommate for a couple years while she was at school  
It took me a few years to get that comfortable with him, so we didn't get to this point until he was about to move out

 **Clarke** : I guess that makes sense  
I'm living alone right now, it's weird  
I liked having someone else to blame for the place being a mess

 **Blake** : So you're a slob but you're in denial?

 **Clarke** : Basically, yeah  
I liked being able to pretend those were someone else's dishes  
Octavia said you were a neat freak

 **Blake** : I prefer cleanliness enthusiast  
When did she say that?

 **Clarke** : In college  
She was friends with my roommate Anya  
Who was also a slob  
She always had a lot of opinions about our cleaning habits because of you

 **Blake** : I raised her right  
You're in grad school?

 **Clarke** : Yeah

 **Blake** : For what?

 **Clarke** : Art education, actually

 **Blake** : Oh, cool  
What kind of teaching do you want to do?

 **Clarke** : I want to work in museums, ideally  
I like teaching, but I don't think I'd be happy in a classroom setting  
And this way I'm closer to the art  
Maybe I can steal something and retire early  
What do you teach?

 **Blake** : Middle school social studies

 **Clarke** : Wow  
Better you than me

 **Blake** : I get that a lot

The conversation lags, and he's surprisingly worried about the idea of it actually dying. He's not great at casual chatting, but he'd sort of like to be. For all Octavia makes fun of him, he doesn't _actually_ hate new technology. But he tends to interact with Miller via long-distance multiplayer games and the rest of his actual human conversations are in-person, apart from occasionally texting Octavia about groceries or schedules and Monty about why Miller isn't online. He'd like to just talk to someone, and Clarke is a good candidate.

Before he can worry too much, Clarke says, _I think honestly I just want Michael Rosenbuam on Supergirl playing Lex Luthor_ , and just like that, he's made a friend.

*

 **Blake** : Did you know that middle school boys are the worst

 **Clarke** : Everyone knew that  
Did no one ever tell you?  
Were you not one?

 **Blake** : I don't think you appreciate just how the worst they are, Clarke  
Everyone SAYS they're they worst  
But no one FEELS it

 **Clarke** :  


*

"So, tell me more about Clarke."

He and Octavia are on basically opposite schedules--he works days, she works nights and weekends--so they don't actually get to see each other very often. He tends to be asleep by the time she gets home, and if she's awake when he gets up, he tells her to go the fuck to sleep. Monday is the day they most often get to hang out, with Bellamy usually not having to stay very late with student stuff and Octavia off work, so he cooks dinner and they watch a movie and it's the kind of wholesome sibling bonding that both of them pretend to do for the other's benefit. 

"She lives in Michigan," O says, without looking up. She's sitting at the table, playing some new game on her phone. 

"That wasn't what I meant."

"Yeah, well, she lives in Michigan," she says, like it will make more sense the second time. "So nothing is going to happen."

"Oh," he says. "Yeah, that wasn't what I was going for either. I'm not planning to try to internet-fuck your friend. I'm just curious."

"Uh huh. Are you still talking to her?"

"Sometimes."

They've talked every day since he friended her, he's pretty sure, but he doesn't need to tell Octavia that. He's allowed to have a friend he chats with. He doesn't even know why she's being weird about it. If her only objection is that Clarke is in Michigan, there shouldn't be an issue. Who cares about Michigan?

But, really, he's making a friend, and his sister is being weird. He shouldn't be surprised.

"She sometimes knows stuff about me, so I feel like I should know stuff about her," he says.

"You did, at some point," O says. "But it's probably easier for Clarke to remember stuff about my brother than it was for you to remember which of my college friends ate so many vodka-soaked gummy bears she threw up."

He pauses. "Was that Clarke?"

"If you don't remember, I'm not going to tell you," O says, lofty. 

He lets it go. "How did you guys meet?"

"Why don't you ask her?"

"I'm going to. I'm asking both of you so I can compare your answers. It's like my own personal _Rashoman_."

She rolls her eyes, which was the response he was going for. "I met her when I was a freshman and she was a junior. Her roommate was teaching my self-defense course. We were never, like, super close or anything, but we'd go to things in a group and you come up a lot in my stories, so I'm not surprised she remembered you. But it's not one of those times where you're hitting on my friend and it's super awkward."

"You're the one who told me to talk to her," he points out. "I really don't get why you're pissed now that I did it."

"I'm not pissed. I wanted you to get your flirting off my wall so I didn't have to see it. So why would I want to talk about it?"

"Is this another engaged thing?" he asks. "Like, you're getting married so you assume everyone's motivation is romantic? Or you think I'm going to move to Michigan to meet your friend from the internet because you're leaving soon and I'm panicking?"

"I'm not leaving _soon_ ," Octavia protests, and he hides his smile in his cooking. She's been engaged for a few months, but Lincoln is still finishing up his last stint with Amnesty International, so they haven't set a date yet. Bellamy's torn between being happy for her and his general aversion to major life changes, especially major life changes involving his sister. "We're thinking July for the wedding."

It's the first time she's attached any kind of date to it; he wasn't really prepared.

"Is he going to be back by then?" he asks.

"May, supposedly. We're waiting for the exact date."

"Are you waiting to cohabitate until you're married? That's surprisingly conservative of you."

"Once he's got a day to come home, we'll start looking for a place."

"So this is your weird way of worrying about living alone. I'm not actually upset about that. I'm going to wear boxers and belch all the time. It'll be great."

"Uh huh. Sure. You're the one who's asking about Clarke. What was I supposed to think?"

"I made a friend."

"You never make friends."

"So you should be extra proud." 

"I just figured you were into her."

"I don't even know what she looks like."

Octavia boggles at him. "You're _Facebook friends_ , Bell. She has pictures up."

"Yeah, but--I don't want to be weird. Her pictures weren't public, so I didn't see them when I was looking first, and now--" He rubs the back of his neck. "I don't know. We're friends. It doesn't matter what she looks like, right?"

"So, you're afraid she's hot."

He rubs his face. "I know she's hot."

"How?"

"The back of her head is cute."

"Wow, Bell. You've got it bad."

"Shut up," he says. "I'm still blaming you."

"Yeah. I guess you would."

*

 **Blake** : You know O's getting married, right?

 **Clarke** : Her Facebook relationship status is engaged, so yeah  
Why?

 **Blake** : Is it weird if I complain about it?

 **Clarke** : It's mostly weird because I talk to you more than I talk to her now  
So I'm on your side in this theoretical conflict  
Which is definitely weird  
But yeah, go ahead  
I love dirt

 **Blake** : It's not dirt  
I'm just bad at O growing up  
And getting married is really grown up

 **Clarke** : This is less exciting than I thought it would be  
But yeah, that makes sense  
I don't have any siblings, but people I know getting married is weird  
So your sister has to be even weirder

 **Blake** : Yeah  
Lincoln's a good guy  
I'm really happy for them  
But he's been out of the country, so I figured it wasn't going to happen for a while  
And now O's saying July

 **Clarke** : So, like--eight months  
Is eight months not a while now?

 **Blake** : It's definite  
It's not someday  
It's July

 **Clarke** : Yeah, okay  
I kind of get that  
But you're happy for her

 **Blake** : Of course I'm happy for her  
She doesn't act like it, but she worries about him being out of the country  
Obviously she misses him  
So I want him to come back and marry her  
But I'll miss her

 **Clarke** : Are they moving?

 **Blake** : Not out of town  
But she won't live with me anymore  
And you don't have to tell me that's sad  
I know I'm thirty-one, I shouldn't be upset to not live with my sister

 **Clarke** : That's not even sad  
It's sweet  
A little weird, but it makes sense  
You're losing your roommate  
Of course you're going to be lonely

 **Blake** : Thanks  
This is really making me feel better

 **Clarke** : I'm very soothing  
Seriously, that's a really normal way to feel  
I think you're good  
I don't know all the details of what happened when you and Octavia were kids, but I know it was fucked up  
So that probably doesn't help

 **Blake** : Do you want to know?

 **Clarke** : Know what?

 **Blake** : About me and O

 **Clarke** : If you want to tell me  
You don't have to  
But you know me, I always want to know stuff

 **Blake** : Yeah, you're nosy as shit  
What do you know?

 **Clarke** : Your mom died when Octavia was fourteen  
So you were twenty?  
In college, right?

 **Blake** : Yeah

 **Clarke** : And you dropped out to come home and take care of her

 **Blake** : Yeah  
But that wasn't new or anything  
Her dad died a few months before she was born, and it kind of tore the whole family up  
Suddenly we had another mouth to feed and no income  
So I was taking care of O while my mom was working 

**Clarke** : When you were six?

 **Blake** : Until I went to college, basically  
There wasn't anyone else to take care of her  
Mom was working three jobs  
So I took care of O

 **Clarke** : Yeah, I'd probably be a little freaked out about her getting married too  
You know, she always said you were too overprotective  
In college  
I remember her having to text sometimes when we were at parties or out late

 **Blake** : Yeah, I know  
I'm working on  
I'm way less weird now 

**Clarke** : That's not what I meant  
I was thinking it made sense  
She should have cut you some more slack  
I wish I'd known

 **Blake** : So you could tell her that?

 **Clarke** : I would have texted you updates  
Even if she didn't

 **Blake** : Oh  
Thanks

*

Lincoln is getting home on May 1, and he and Octavia are getting married on July 15. Octavia goes into full planning mode basically immediately, because she wants a cool wedding on a budget, and their dining room table is always covered in crafting supplies and empty beer bottles.

Bellamy helps out as much as he can, which mostly means he cuts along dotted lines and complains to Clarke about how many paper cuts he has, and she sends him patronizing comfort gifs.

Octavia makes one attempt to figure out what's up with them, when she asks if they're spending Christmas together, and Bellamy just rolls his eyes.

"We haven't even met, O."

"That's what I'm saying, yeah. I figured maybe Christmas was the time."

They've upgraded from Facebook messenger to texting, and she got him to sign up for Tumblr so he can get access to all her art and also posts about how terrible the patriarchy is, and he's pretty sure she qualifies as his best friend at this point. Which he is mostly trying not to think about. Not that he's unhappy about it, really, just--he's pretty sure best friends are supposed to be people you've met and spoken to in person. It feels a little sad, that his best friend is a grad student in Michigan and not one of his coworkers or Miller or something.

On the other hand, at least it's not his sister.

"Not yet," he tells her. "Maybe Martin Luther King Day."

*

It's the Saturday before Christmas and Clarke is drunk when he sees her face for the first time, and it's totally unexpected. She's back in New York for the holidays, and Bellamy feels oddly anxious, knowing how much closer she is. He could get on a bus and see her in four hours, if he knew how. It would be easy, and he keeps thinking about what Octavia said. Clarke probably wouldn't mind, if he just asked. But she's with her mom, and her mom is really rich, and Bellamy thinks it would be way too awkward for everyone.

At eleven, she texts, _I need a picture of you. For SCIENCE_

Bellamy doesn't have pictures of himself on Facebook. His excuse is that he doesn't want his students to be able to identify him, but mostly he just doesn't like having images of himself online. It still feels like someone is going to find them and use them for evil.

 **Me** : Why does science need my picture?

 **Clarke** : Science is my friend Raven  
She's all the science

 **Me** : All the science  
Got it  
Why does she need my picture?

 **Clarke** : She wants to know what you look like  
She thinks you're hot

 **Me** : Based on what?

 **Clarke** : She has this theory about  
People who don't have fb pics  
That they are secretly hot and don't want anyone to know

 **Me** : Why would I not want people to know I'm hot?

 **Clarke** : PROTECTION  
Anyway I know ur don't have pics bc of students  
But I want to see you

Bellamy stares at the text, a lump in his throat. He's wearing an old gray t-shirt, he doesn't have his contacts in, and hair is a mess. He's drinking beer and playing Skyrim, which is not really one of those things that makes him feel hot on a Saturday night. He could have at least gone to O's bar to try to pretend to be social.

He takes about five pictures before he gets one he likes enough to send, raised eyebrows and wry expression, the best pose he ever managed. He doesn't know how people just smile for pictures without being self-conscious about it; he always comes out looking like someone is telling him to look happy at gun point.

 **Me** : Here  
I hope science is happy

Before he can lose his nerve, he adds, _You owe me one now_. He could just look on her Facebook, it feels like he's probably allowed to, but--he kind of wants to see her _now_.

 **Clarke** : Holy shut

 **Me** : What?

 **Clarke** : Sorry, can't talk, staring at your picture  
How do you look like that????

 **Me** : Genetics?  
Is it good staring?

 **Clarke** : Raven is saying no one has ever been more right than her in the world  
You're so hot

 **Me** : Oh  
Thanks  
Seriously, send me something back  
I want to stare at you too

He almost regrets the message, because Clarke might be drunk, but _he's_ not, and he doesn't have an excuse. At least she hasn't noticed he could know what she looks like and doesn't. 

And he's had enough to drink that he'll admit he wonders, like, all the time. Not what she looks like, but--how she _is_. If it would be as easy in person as it is online. If they'd just click like this.

His phone buzzes, and he doesn't let himself look for a second, but--there she is. She's outside, part of her face blocked by a scarf and a hat. Her hair is blonde and wispy, her cheeks red, her smile shy, and he can't stop looking at her.

It's _Clarke_ ; he saves the picture without even quite realizing he's doing it.

 **Clarke** : Had to go outside for lighting  
And bc Raven couldn't be in pics  
She's too hot  
I'll send you pics of her another time  
So you can appreciate  
But I can't handle that rn

 **Me** : Sorry, can't talk, staring at your picture  
It's really good to see you, honestly

 **Clarke** : Yeah  
It's good to see you too

*

It's basically impossible after that to pretend he's _not_ into Clarke. He's not sure how he managed before, but he spends the whole night pouring over her pictures, trying to put together a mental image of her in motion, like some kind of weird flip book. There's a picture of her with Octavia, so he knows how tall she is, and a few of her from a renaissance fair a few years ago where she's wearing a corset, so he knows how she looks in a corset, and he might be going to hell for saving a couple of those. 

She doesn't mention any of it again, but it feels like there's a shift. She always texted him pictures of _things_ , but now he gets selfies sometimes too, always casual and candid, just her making a face or holding up a weird item for scale, or asking him his opinion on an outfit she's thinking of buying. He's worse at reciprocating, doesn't really ever think of just taking pictures without a good reason. But she always seems to appreciate it, and it does weird things to his stomach, thinking about her feeling the same way about seeing his face that he feels about seeing hers.

He assumes Octavia has just given up on the whole thing as something she doesn't want to deal with, which is more than fine with him. As far as he's concerned, he doesn't need anyone calling him out on whatever's happening with her.

So it's honestly mildly terrifying when she says, "Okay, we need to talk about Clarke."

"Why?" he asks, not making eye contact.

There's a pause, and then she says, "I'm sending out save the dates on Tuesday. It's not a big wedding, and if you'd asked me six months ago, I wouldn't have even thought about inviting her. But now I feel like I should."

His throat closes for a second; right on cue, his phone buzzes--Clarke, telling him that she still hates her print-making instructor, in case he was wondering.

"She's not going to be offended if you don't," he offers, once his voice recovers. "I don't think she was expecting it."

Octavia isn't having any of it. "Do you want her to come?"

"Yeah," he admits. He runs his hand through his hair, stupidly nervous to admit it out loud. There's no reason to be embarrassed, or even--of course he wants to meet her. He talks to her all the time, and she's his closest friend, somehow. It would be weirder if he didn't want to meet her. "But it's your wedding. You don't have to invite her just for me."

"It's not like I don't like her," Octavia says. "Either you get a plus one, or I'm inviting Clarke. I figure she's coming either way, it's just how you want to do it."

"Invite her," he says.

"Wuss," says Octavia, but it's fond. "I'll put her on the list."

He gets up on the pretense of getting a drink of water, but he gives her a hug as he passes. "Thanks."

"Dumbass," she says, and he smiles.

"Yeah. Basically."

*

 **Clarke** : Weird question

 **Me** : Wow  
It's gotta be weird if you're warning me  
Usually you just don't care

 **Clarke** : Shut up  
Have you ever gone to a con?

 **Me** : What kind?

 **Clarke** : A fan one  
I'm going to one in April to sell fanart  
I think you'd probably have fun, if you could take the time off  
They're kind of cool

 **Me** : Oh  
Yeah, that probably would be fun  
When is it?  
Where is it?

 **Clarke** : Here in Ann Arbor  
April 15-17  
But you could just come for the Saturday and Sunday  
And since it's here you wouldn't need a hotel, you could just stay with me  
Anyway  
Something to think about

 **Me** : Shit  
I really would  
But we've got a debate club event on the 16th, I have to be there  
I want to go to a con sometime, though  
They sound cool  
Let me know about the next one

 **Clarke** : Yeah, definitely

*

The convenient thing about being in love with Clarke is that he doesn't feel bad for not doing anything about it, because she's not here yet. But she will be, so he still has _a_ timeline. She mentioned when she got the save the date, in a kind of overly casual way that made him think that she wanted to make sure he didn't mind if she came. It's amazing to him, how sure he is about his ability to read the tone of her typing, how well he feels like he knows her when the sound of her voice is a mystery.

He told her she should come, of course, but they haven't talked about it beyond that. It's nearly April, and they're both busy as the end of the school year approaches. Octavia's sending actual invitations in May, and Bellamy figures that's when they'll have The Wedding Conversation, and he's already preparing himself with arguments about how she could come _visit_ , maybe stay for a while. He has a lot of compelling points to make.

Before he needs to make any of them, Raven Reyes friends him on Facebook, which is a gesture he cannot even begin to interpret.

Obviously, he calls in the expert.

 **Blake** : Why is your friend Raven friending me?  
Is it for science?

 **Clarke** : Shut up  
She's going to a con in Boston I think?  
She mentioned it  
Maybe she wants to crash on your couch

 **Blake** : Joke's on her, my couch is shitty  
Should I accept?

 **Clarke** : It's up to you  
I doubt it's anything bad  
But if you feel weird she won't be offended

 **Blake** : It feels like a trap

 **Clarke** : It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you

 **Blake** : Thanks  
Why aren't you coming to a con in Boston?  
You should come to a con in Boston

 **Clarke** : It's sold out  
And it's a gaming con  
I don't care about gaming  
You're getting Raven, she's an upgrade

 **Blake** : She really isn't  
But I'll friend her back

As it turns out, Raven has good enough sense to not sleep on his couch, but she does ask if he wants to grab coffee. Which honestly feels even weirder, and he asks if Clarke knows about it before he realizes that, too, is deeply weird. Everything is weird. His life is weird.

 **Raven** : No, I didn't tell Clarke  
You know how in movies when overprotective guys give other guys talks about how they better not hurt women?  
That's what's happening here  
If I'm going to be in Boston, I'm going to put the fear of god in you  
Which is why I'm not telling Clarke, because she'll tell me I don't have to

 **Blake** : You know I talk to her basically all the time, right?  
I asked her about you friending me  
I'm going to tell her if we get coffee  
It would be weird if I didn't

 **Raven** : Yeah, okay, fine  
You guys are nauseating  
I'll tell Clarke I'm taking you out for coffee to make sure you're good enough for her  
She'll pretend she has no idea what I'm talking about  
I'll text my boyfriend about how I'm living in someone else's sappy rom-com against my will  
Thursday after school work for you?

 **Blake** : This Thursday?

 **Raven** : Yup

 **Blake** : Sure, I can do that

*

He had seen a few pictures of Raven on Facebook, so he recognizes her when he gets to Flour, sitting at a table with an iPad, looking more competent than anyone he has ever met in his life. He texts Clarke, _Is she supposed to be terrifying?_ and then gets in line. Raven hasn't noticed him yet, which he kind of appreciates. He's still psyching himself up. He honestly doesn't care if Clarke's friend likes him, not as long as _Clarke_ likes him, but it's nerve-wracking and feels kind of stupidly unfair. He hasn't even gotten to meet Clarke yet. He really should get to do that first before he gets lectures from her friends.

 **Clarke** : Yeah, she is  
Give her a hug for me!  
Ask her about her new boyfriend

 **Me** : I think she just wants to yell at me

 **Clarke** : She's going to want to tell you the Finn story  
Maybe the Lexa story  
Just tell her you already know and ask her what games she wants to check out this weekend  
It'll be fine

 **Me** : Did Octavia ever warn you off?  
Or do I get all the grief?

 **Clarke** : She told me if I didn't come to her wedding she'd never forgive me  
But not because she cared if I was at her wedding  
Does that count?

 **Me** : Yeah, I feel better  
Okay, going to talk to her  
If she kills me, avenge my death

 **Clarke** : Will do  
Have fun!

 **Me** : I wish I just got to see you  
I'll send a picture after to prove we survived

He clears his throat when he gets to the table, and Raven's eyes snap up, taking him in. He looks pretty respectable, he knows. He came right from school, so he's wearing nice slacks and a tie, with his contacts in. It would be way too formal for a date, but as a guy trying to make a good impression on his--whatever Clarke is to him's friend, he feels okay and only a little bit like he's sucking up.

"Yeah, you're still hot," says Raven. She stands and offers her hand. "Raven Reyes."

"Bellamy Blake. Nice to meet you. Clarke told me to give you a hug, but I think that would be weird."

"Yeah. She didn't tell me to do anything to you, which is good. I really don't want to know." She looks him over again. "Honestly, I wasn't sure you'd show up."

"I like coffee," he says.

She sits, so he does too, studying her as she studies him. He knows she and Clarke went to high school together, that they dated the same guy without knowing it, and they kept each other instead of keeping the guy. She's Clarke's best friend in a way that he doesn't have best friends, a best friend for _life_ , and he'd want to meet her just for that, even leaving everything else aside.

He just wants Clarke to be here with them. Just the two of them feels weirdly dishonest.

"Clarke said I wasn't allowed to scare you off," says Raven.

He snorts. "She told me I was going to be fine. And I already know about Finn and Lexa, so you don't have to warn me." He swallows, looks down at her coffee. "I know she's gotten hurt before. It's not news."

"Yeah," says Raven. "Honestly, I wasn't sure you were serious about her."

"We've never talked about it," he says. "Not--we haven't _met_. We could suck in person."

"Yeah? What if you do?"

"I'd fucking cry," he says, and she barks out a laugh. "I'm not going to stop being her friend, she's way too important to me. But I'd be pretty disappointed." It's the last thing he actually wants to think about right now, him and Clarke not working in person, so he turns his thoughts away. "It's not like I started talking to her because I thought I'd--" 

When his tongue trips over a term for how he is, Raven picks up the slack. "Yeah, okay. So, you're totally gone, huh?"

"Not totally," he says. The protest is a little weak. "I'm trying to show some restraint."

"It's not working," says Raven. "But yeah, I get it." 

He feels almost naked, so he clears his throat, leans forward. "Clarke wanted me to grill you about your new boyfriend. And then I was supposed to ask what games you were playing this weekend."

Her smile is knowing, but she takes the subject change with grace, and they have a perfectly civil conversation for half an hour, until Clarke texts to make sure they haven't killed each other. At which point it becomes a friendly conversation where Raven periodically makes fun of him for the way he lights up whenever his phone buzzes.

They take a picture together after to send to Clarke, and she doesn't reply for a while. He's on the train before she says, _I wish I was there with you guys_.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back. _Yeah_ , he replies. _Me too_.

*

 **Clarke** : So, Octavia's wedding

 **Me** : Octavia's wedding

 **Clarke** : I'm looking at fights and hotels

 **Me** : Don't look at hotels  
She and Lincoln have their own place starting June 1, so I'm going from two roommates to zero roommates  
I'll be very lonely by July  
You should stay with me  
I'll have a spare room and everything

 **Clarke** : No new roommate yet?

 **Me** : Not yet  
I can afford to live alone for a few months, and the lease is up in September  
So I'm going to give myself some time to figure it out

 **Clarke** : Yeah  
So, I should stay with you

 **Me** : Unless you really love hotels, yeah  
I guess I don't have a minibar

 **Clarke** : Good point  
I'll live  
When should I come down? Wedding is on a Saturday, right?

 **Me** : Yeah  
But it's summer  
I'm pretty free  
So if you wanted to take a real vacation, you could

 **Clarke** : Okay  
Here's an idea: you tell me how long you want me to stay  
Instead of trying to act all cool and distant  
Honesty is the best policy

 **Me** : I don't really have a date range in mind  
I know you've got a summer job lined up  
But you could tell me you wanted to stay for the entire month of July and I'd be happy  
Fuck, the whole summer  
I want you for as long as I can get you, Clarke

 **Clarke** : Good  
Just making sure  
Let me check my schedule and I'll see how long I can stay

 **Me** : Cool  
Let me know

*

Between Raven's visit and Bellamy's invitation, Clarke is apparently reassured that they're on the same page. They'd been flirting for a while, but in a fairly casual way. It would have been easy to deny that was where they were going, if they'd wanted to. It used to feel special, when one of them let something slip. It used to feel like getting away with something.

Now, she tells him she wishes he was around after she's had a hard day, tells him she can't wait to see him all the time. They've talked about romantic relationships before, but she starts asking him what he _likes_ , and a couple times it goes far enough he's pretty sure it counts as cyber sex. Not that he's great on the definition, and there's no way he's asking anyone, but he gets off thinking about her, and she tells him she's doing the same.

She's probably not his girlfriend yet. But unless they are the least compatible people in the entire world, she's going to be. And she's still going to live in Michigan, for another year at least, and he's still going to live here. But he fell in love with her in Michigan; he doesn't see why he can't date her in Michigan too.

Her summer job is an archiving project for one of her professors, which is pretty informal, in that no one cares that much if she takes some time off, but she can't take as much as he wants. Which would honestly be at least a month and probably like three, so it's no surprise. The compromise is that she's working half a day on Friday the 7th, flying down, and staying a full eight days before she leaves on Sunday night. It's either going to be awesome, or they're going to be drunk and miserable the whole time because they somehow hate each other in person. 

Either way, he's really, really looking forward to it. Even _Miller_ noticed he was keyed up, and they communicate primarily through grunting and trash-talk. So it's obviously a big fucking deal.

He cleans his entire apartment, even though it doesn't need it, gets a shopping list from her of things she wants to have around, and buys a new box of condoms out of a general sense of optimism. He also changes the sheets on the bed in Octavia's old room and makes sure it's ready for a person to stay there, even if he really hopes Clarke isn't going to. But he offered her Octavia's bed, and she's never mentioned a plan to share his instead. So he figured he should make sure it's ready for her. It's _polite_.

The night before she leaves, Clarke asks, _I just realized I have no idea what you sound like_.

 **Me** : Do you want me to call you?  
We've never actually used the phone  
Video chatting's a thing too, I guess

 **Clarke** : Not now  
I can wait a day  
It's just kind of funny, right?

 **Me** : You had to get drunk to ask me for a selfie  
After you'd known me for three months

 **Clarke** : You could have looked at my facebook pictures and DIDN'T because you thought it would be weird

 **Me** : Exactly  
I'm just saying, our whole relationship has been kind of funny  
I figured you'd noticed before

 **Clarke** : Yeah, I guess I did  
It's going to go okay tomorrow, right?

 **Me** : Yeah  
We're going to be fine

*

He leaves for the airport way earlier than he needs to and ends up arriving a full half an hour before Clarke is even supposed to _land_. He gets a coffee and fails to read or play Hearthstone or concentrate on _anything_ on his phone, and he nearly texts Octavia to complain, until he remembers she's getting married in just over a week and is on the record as not wanting to hear about this unless something goes wrong. For which he can't really blame her; that's his official position on the wedding planning too. They're mutually avoiding each other for their own sanity at this point.

Clarke lands on time and texts him before she's gotten to the gate, which at least feels like good progress. He goes to the baggage claim and lets her know he's there, which means it's on her to find him. He can just stare resolutely at his phone and definitely not look at the escalator, because it will just make him more nervous.

And then he realizes Clarke might not actually _recognize him_ , if he's bent over his phone, so he sucks it up, takes a deep breath, and goes to stand in front of the escalator, watching, and somehow not anxious at all, now. She's here. He finally gets her. That's all that matters.

The first thing he thinks when he sees her is that he shouldn't have worried, because she's looking down at her phone, but he still recognizes her instantly. She's wearing a tank-top and shorts, her hair braided away from her face, and he knows exactly who she is even though she hasn't noticed him yet. He couldn't possibly miss her.

His phone buzzes, and he doesn't bother checking it, because she's looking up now, and he doesn't want to miss her smile when she sees him.

And, yeah. She's beautiful, and he's so incredibly in love with her.

She launches herself basically directly off the escalator and into his arms, and she fits perfectly, her face finding the crook of his neck as he buries his face in her hair.

"Hi," he manages, when he finally manages to let her go, and she laughs.

He's not going to kiss her in an _airport_. He's not sure he'd be able to stop.

"You need to say more than that," she says. "Raven said you had a really hot voice. That's what made me remember I didn't know what you sounded like."

"You guys have the weirdest conversations about how hot I am," he says. "Why does she care so much? Doesn't she have a boyfriend of her own? She doesn't have to live vicariously through you."

"You do have a hot voice," she says, and tucks herself into his side, right under his arm. He squeezes her, kisses her hair, and is profoundly glad she shows no sign of wanting anything like personal space.

"Oh good, I was worried. That's the deal breaker."

She beams at him, and he gets a little distracted just looking at her, all the details of her face that he knew but hadn't _seen_ before. She's got blue eyes and a beauty mark on her lip and she's _right here_.

"You have a bag, right?" he asks, tearing his gaze away with an effort. "Or are we just leaving?"

"I really can't fit eight days of stuff into a carry on, so, yeah. Checked a bag."

"Cool." 

She knocks her hip against his. "You're awkward." It doesn't sound like she minds; she sounds positively giddy.

"That can't be a surprise." He strokes his thumb against the soft skin of her shoulder. "I still can't believe you're here."

She bites her lip on her smile. "Yeah," she agrees. "I can't believe it either."

She curls against him on the train back to his apartment, and they stop for dinner at a place he likes in his neighborhood once they get off. It's just like he hoped it would be, conversation flowing easily, like it always has between them, awkwardness forgotten almost before it begins. He updates her on the wedding plans, and she tells him about her supervisor making fun of her at work.

"For what?" he asks.

"For being so excited."

"Where did you tell her you were going?"

"To visit my boyfriend," she says, her expression daring him to contradict her. Like he'd _want_ to.

"Cool," he says, and reclaims her hand across the table. "I'm glad she thinks we're cute."

She ducks her head to try to hide her relief, and he squeezes her fingers. "Yeah. Me too."

By the time he's unlocking the door, he's nervous again, because all he honestly wants to do is shove her against the wall, kiss her breathless, and tell her how much he loves her, but he feels like there must be a few in-between steps. Some amount of using his words.

"So, this is it," he says. "O dropped off some wedding stuff, even though I told her I didn't want anything to do with it. She said you could help since you're artistic, but I didn't promise her anything."

"It's her wedding. I think we can handle a few decorations."

"Spoken like someone who thinks I was exaggerating about how bad I am at arts and crafts."

"I thought you were trying to impress me."

"With how much I sucked? Does that work?"

"Yeah," she says. "Totally."

He doesn't let himself look at her yet. "Awesome. Here's the kitchen, bathroom, uh, living room. I got O's old room cleaned up for you, if you--"

She starts laughing, and a knot in his stomach undoes itself. "Bellamy."

"Yeah?"

"Do you want me to sleep in Octavia's room?"

When he looks at her, her smile is fond and just a little exasperated, and he finds himself smiling back, grinning even. "Yeah, no. Definitely not."

"Good. I don't want to either."

"Thank god," he says, and when he goes to kiss her, she meets him halfway, hand tangling in his hair, and he can barely keep his mouth on hers for laughing.

*

It's not until they're in bed, naked and sweaty and worn out, Clarke tangled around him with her cheek resting against his heart, that he says, "Hey, did I ever tell you I love you?"

He feels her mouth stretch into a smile. "No, I'm pretty sure you didn't."

"Okay, well. I do."

"Yeah, I thought so." Her lips press against his chest, and he closes his eyes, boneless and warm and radiant with contentment. "I love you too."

*

Eight days has never gone by so in his quickly. They do tourist stuff and help Octavia with the wedding and lounge on the couch watching Netflix and making out, and it doesn't feel like he only just met her, because how could it? He's known her for months, and she's his best friend. He knows her.

She makes sure he's not freaking out during the wedding, which he isn't, except because she'll be gone tomorrow, which has eclipsed any kind of stress he was feeling about Octavia getting married. And he's pretty sure she knows that too.

"We were long distance before," she points out that night, propped up on his chest. His bed is going to feel so empty tomorrow.

"Not like this."

She hesitates, and then asks, "Did you not want to?"

His arms tighten around her, and he leans up for a long kiss. "Jesus, no. Of course I want to. I'm just going to miss you."

"Well, you're not doing anything this summer. Come to Michigan any time. You can hang out on my couch and play video games instead of yours." She taps his stomach, thoughtful. "I don't care about going home for school breaks. I can come to you."

"I want to go to a con. We should figure out one of those."

"And we've always got arguing with assholes on Facebook." She kisses his shoulder. "I'm going to miss you too. But we can make this work, right?"

"It already works," he says. "But yeah. I think we can keep it going."

*

 **Clarke** : Off the plane and going to get my bag  
Got stuck behind two people who weren't walking on the escalator and nearly punched one in the back of the head

 **Me** : I love you

 **Clarke** : I assume that was related to me punching people  
I love you too  
I can't wait to see you again

 **Me** : It's just thirty-two days  
Piece of cake

 **Clarke** : Yeah  
We've waited way longer

**Author's Note:**

> FB threads were made on [Prank Me Not](http://www.prankmenot.com); Clarke and Ted's profile pics are stock photos and Bellamy's is from [Hark, A Vagrant!](http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=202)
> 
> I got the Zuko gif Clarke uses [here](http://imgur.com/gallery/X5tD7M5).


End file.
